


Rinse, Lather, Repeat

by sunandoceanblue



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bottom Hux, Emotional Abuse, F/F, F/M, Hux is a narcissist, Ice Skating AU, Kylux - Freeform, M/M, Mental Illness, Rey is Luke's adopted daughter, Top Kylo Ren, and a lot of fluff, and a lot of hux wearing kylo's jerseys, both luke and rey are hippies, figure skater!hux, finn and poe are very pda, hockey player!kylo, honestly so is kylo, hux and kylo are terrible people, hux is a bitch, i mean its kylux, kylo hates everything, leia is a perfectionist, rey and finn are bffs, rey is a sweet bumblebee, there will be a lot of sex, this is not a healthy relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 09:43:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7042990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunandoceanblue/pseuds/sunandoceanblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even hearts as cold as ice can combust when met with friction.<br/>(The Ice Skating AU in which Hux gets swept up in the hurricane that is Kylo Ren and Kylo learns that perfection really does come with a heavy price)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rinse, Lather, Repeat

**Author's Note:**

> So the day has finally come! I'm finally writing about my [ice skating au!!](http://thesunandoceanblue.tumblr.com/tagged/ice-ice-babies-au/chrono)
> 
> This fic is absolutely dedicated to the amazing [demideerling!](http://demideerling.tumblr.com/) Not only did they inspire this AU, but they have continued to be my muse for the past few months and also my beta for this fic. They’re a darling and I can’t thank them enough~

_"Everything has become a maze, everything has become suffering and bruises."_

  
-  **Jean-Marie G. Le Clézio** , from “Fever,”  _Fever_  

Kylo can remember the first time he went skating.

He was four and it was a few days before Christmas. The lake sat behind their street, down past the slope and the wooden fence that’s broken, exactly four houses down from theirs. He remembers thinking his mother’s hair were earmuffs, the way they were wrapped into large buns on either side of her head. The way the cold air curled out of his father’s mouth in large puffs every time he laughed. And he remembers how tightly they held his hands as the three of them just...

Skated.

It has been so much simpler back then.

*

The breeze chases them as they walk down the street.  It’s crisp and cool and just the sort of weather Kylo likes. His hood is up and his hands are stuffed in his pocket, presenting an attitude that is both angsty and anti-social. He’s had two old people scowl at him as they walked past. He scowled back. They stop at the crosswalk and his sleeve receives a tug, prompting his hand out of his pocket as small but strong fingers curl around his. Right up to this day, Rey still insists they hold hands as they cross the street.

There is no one quite like Rey. She’s sunshine embodied. Always beating his cloudy days. Aglow with something more than a lust for life—it’s something he can’t quite describe, like a favourite flavour, an old song you still know the words to or a candy with a jelly-filled centre. She’s the sort of person that, when asked that her favourite colour is, will rattle off an animated description of why she loves each colour. She still cries when watching _Finding Nemo_ and makes tie dye skirts with Uncle Luke that they wear on designated days.

Rey’s the best friend Kylo has ever had, and one of the only ones at that. She’s the reason he believes in the whole _family isn’t just blood_ sentiment because, really, she’s the closest family member he has.

Kylo pulls his other hand free to hike the strap of his duffle bag more securely over his shoulder. The strap has broken twice but Rey patched it up both times, insisting that he couldn’t just go a get rid of his sports bag—what with it being a lucky charm and everything. He supposes it’s similar to her and the little wool doll attached to her Hello Kitty purse, tattered and coming apart but like hell she’ll get rid of it.

Once they’ve safely crossed the road, Rey unlocks her phone and Kylo catches a glimpse of her lock screen; a selfie of herself with Finn, aka her best friend, aka her roommate, aka her partner in crime. She replies to a Snapchat from him with a blurry photo of the rink as they make haste getting inside. 

Protected from the chill and the now slightly too warm building, Kylo pushes his hood back, lightly shaking out his hair. It falls around his face in luscious, almost shiny curls, despite how little he cares for it. He supposes he has his mother’s genes to thank for that. He’d never met another person with such hairstyles; not a strand out of place, perfect and extravagant and a reflection of how she expects her life to be. As well as the lives of those around her.

Kylo begins to head straight to the locker rooms but another firm tug to his wrist stops him.

“I want to get some food, Ben,” Rey says. The way she pronounces his name gives it a sort of importance as if it’s not his ordinary and plain birth name that he can’t stand. Rey has a way of making things special, even when they’re not.

He shrugs. “Fine.”

She nods and turns on her heel, making a beeline for the kiosk tucked away near the rink’s entrance. Her three little buns bounce as she skips. Kylo’s never seen anyone with a hairstyle like hers—he thinks it’s better than any of his mother’s. Once Rey said she’d trademark it. Along with her saying _‘let summer Rey beat your cloudy day.’_

“Poe!” Rey sings with an inelegant charm that’s purely her own.

A head of dark curls pops up from behind the counter, paired with a dazzling smile that makes the fluorescent lighting dim in comparison. Poe Dameron. Quite possibly the most attractive guy in the state and Kylo’s only other friend in the entire world.

Poe’s the sort of guy who rolls with life. Easy-going and smooth, always knowing who’s doing what and with whom. Yet, he passes little judgement onto others, preferring to let people do their own thing and believes karma eventually gets everyone.

“Hey, sunshine,” he greets, cheery as ever.

“Hey, Poe,” Rey says, leaning her forearm on the counter she’s nearly too short for. She reaches into the pocket of her leggings (that she had sewn on herself and it had actually turned out pretty good, in a Rey sort of way) and drags out a handful of coins and a few crinkled ones. Kylo has no idea where she accumulates all this loose change from but he’s certain that she has no idea either.

“Can I get two packets of gummy worms and a chocolate milk?”

Poe chuckles and shakes his head. “Sure thing, girly.” He walks to the fridge and snatches a bottle out, then takes the gummy worms off the shelf behind him. She moves the money across the counter in a messy pile and Poe begins to count, dumping her purchases on top of the metal surface.

“Rey, you’re $2.50 short.”

 “Oh.” Rey reaches into her pocket to pull out more change but Poe raises a hand to stop her.

“It’s alright—I got you covered.”

Regardless of whether or not she can actually pay for it, someone always ends up covering for her. Kylo remembers the first time he met Rey. They were both young. She has been so small and fragile. And feral. When Luke adopted her, they were called Batman and Robin. And that dynamic duo had certainly been inseparable ever since. She’s still first to finish dinner every time.

Poe opens the till and stuffs the coins inside. His eyes slide to Kylo, who’s spent the last few minutes hovering behind Rey. Poe’s expression remains easy-going, as it’s always been as he greets Kylo. Kylo is glad this is one thing that never changes.

“How’s it going, Benny?” Poe asks. He’s the only non-relative Kylo has who calls him by his real name. The only one Kylo allows.

“Same old world,” Kylo replies, pulling his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. “Can I get a Monster?”

“Sure thing.” Poe turns to the fridges and plucks a can out, sliding it over to Kylo. “That’ll be $4.20.”

“Don’t say it.”

Poe grins. “Blaze it.”

Kylo rolls his eyes and slams his money on the counter. “Fuck you.” He scoops up his drink and walks past Rey, who is laughing at Poe’s excuse for humour.

“My shift finishes at six, babe!” Poe calls out after them and Kylo doesn’t even need to turn to know he winked at them.

Rey chuckles and rips open one of her packets. “Ah, classic Poe.”

Kylo shakes his head in what can only be counted as fondest. He cracks open his drink and takes a large gulp before replying. “I still can’t believe Poe Dameron has a _boyfriend_.”

“Hey—I did that. I got them together.” Rey crinkles her nose and pops a few worms into her mouth, the sugar catching on her lips. “Though, sometimes I wish I didn’t. Poe’s the biggest dope for Finn. And honestly, Finn is no better.”

“Finn seems great for him. Reins him in a little.” Kylo reaches over and steals a few of Rey’s gummy worms. “Don’t think he’s had a boyfriend that’s done that before.”

“Can you believe Uncle Han used to call him a ladies’ man?”

 “Can you believe anyone though he was straight in the first place?”

They separate, heading for the separate locker rooms. Kylo doesn’t like spending too much time in there. Mainly because he doesn’t like any of the other players and hates people staring at him any longer than they have to. He takes his ice skates out of his bag and unceremoniously shoves the bag into his locker. He throws the tattered skates over his shoulder and pulls his hockey stick out of the locker (equally as worn as the skates).

When he heads out to the benches, he takes a seat and begins to lace up, eyes down. People hurry back and forth, many specifically scurrying past _him_. Despite never actually hitting anyone off the ice, the rumours about Kylo are terrible and loud. Gossip is one of the biggest reasons why he doesn’t like people. He can’t stand this air of pretence he sees through clear as day.

Rey joins him short after, skates laced and urging him out onto the ice with no questions asks. Kylo gives her a crooked grin, twirling his stick like a sword, a technique he’s near mastered; just to look cocky.  Han had taught him the saying _‘fake it until you make it’_ and so far, it had worked with Kylo’s confidence. Surely, he’ll actually make it soon.

“Wanna race?” Rey asks, bracing herself against the barrier. “I’ll kick your butt.”

Kylo quirks a brow. “Yeah? So sure, sunshine?”

 Rey laughs and it’s delightful. “I’m always sure.”

And without warning she takes off, working her arms as she attempts to get as much speed as she can before Kylo inevitably catches up. He rolls his eyes and kicks off. Rey’s short legs are no match for his long, powerful strides. He chases after her, stick gripped tightly in his hand, holding it out as if trying to trip her. But he, of course, never would. Instead, he comes up alongside her, winking as he glides past. She pokes her tongue out.

The lap is over in less than two minutes and once again, Kylo wins. He leans against the barrier, a triumphant smile gracing his face as Rey slides up next to him.

“You cheated.” He didn’t but she’ll still accuse him.

Kylo scoffs and opens his mouth to reply but a third very unwanted voice interrupts them.

“Well, if it isn’t Princess Bumblebee and her Knight in Hot Topic armour.”

Both Rey and Kylo groan. They don’t even need to turn around to know who that voice is coming from. From that clipped, hoity-toity tone to that stupid British accent.

Hux.

That’s all Kylo knows him as—he isn’t even sure if Hux _has_ a first name. No one seems to know it. There’s a bet between the hockey players on what it is.

Rey turns around first, fixing him with a huffy expression. She hates that nickname. When she was seven, Rey did one of her first solo performances, dressed as a bee to promote the importance of bees to human life. She didn’t exactly understand at the time, but she thought bees were cool and Luke had been proud. Unfortunately the nickname stuck. People like Hux especially never let her forget it.

If asked, Rey will wholeheartedly announce that her arch rival is Hux. Despite him being a few years older, both of them are star skaters, representing the state time and time again. Hux has proudly won the state championship three times in a row now and loves to rub it in Rey’s face that he’s clearly going to win again. He never fails to rile Rey up; the kind of person who drags out the worst parts of anyone. He may as well be stealing the sun from everyone’s summer day.

Kylo easily shares Rey’s dislike of Hux. And when he turns, he makes little attempt to hide it. Hux flashed his eyes, presenting them with a nasty smile. Kylo can’t stand that pale green, clear and bright and dangerous. For someone so lithe, with thin wrists and a lean body, he holds such a challenging gaze. As flawless as he appears, gifted with smooth skin, white teeth and a nice nose, there’s something bubbling under his surface and it isn’t very nice at all.

_He sure is hot, though._

“Oh, don’t you look cute, Little Miss Sunshine,” Hux says. “You look like you dived into a Goodwill dumpster. Nice to see you’re supporting the cause.

The worst thing is that Kylo is completely certain something in Rey’s outfit is a thrift store buy. She’s completely savvy, like her father before her.

“Hey, Hux, have you ever heard the saying stick and stones.” Rey pauses and then makes a face. She’s never been good at insults, or ever donning a mean expression. “Because, well, _that._ ”

“Aw, did your daddy teach you that?” Hux has a way of making his voice so sweet he puts Disney characters to shame. Kylo thinks he’d make a good Disney villain, however. Maybe with a jazzy musical number to suit his dramatic flair.

“My dad taught me everything I know,” Rey replies, proudly. And it’s not untrue; Rey was homeschooled her entire life by Luke and spent a majority of her childhood life backpacking Europe. Luke believed knowledge and wisdom were better obtained through culture, rather than education. He also didn’t want her lost in the school system the same way she’d been chewed up and spat out by the welfare system. Rey can speak three different languages but doesn’t know her timetables very well and never quite got the hang of tying her laces.

Something shifts in Hux’s expression. His taunting smirk remains but his eyes darken. Kylo can’t describe it as anything but predatory. A carnivore going in for the kill. And Kylo has this overwhelming urge to protect Rey from whatever is standing in front of them. But maybe it’s just a trick of the light. Hux is just a guy. Human. Like them.

“Did he teach you who your real parents are, then?”

The urge very quickly shifts from defence to offence and Kylo can’t help but think Hux’s nice nose looks very breakable from this angle.

Rey has what one can only describe as natural talent. There was no moment when she decided that skating was her passion, a career to pursue. It was always there, buried within her; her one true calling, lifetime after lifetime.

The kind of talent that makes petty, superficial, micro-managing assholes like Hux jealous. Rey unintentionally stole some of Hux’s limelight and Hux never forgave her.

After that comment, several things happen at once. First, Hux smiles and it’s a terrible thing. Toxic looking. If Kylo has to guess, he’d say Hux’s lips would taste like ash and bile and glitter.

The next thing that happens is that Rey squeaks at the offence. Her cheeks turn pink and she pushes off the barrier, ready to retort. As small as she is, she can get angry. And she can hold her own in a fight. Kylo is sure if he handed her his hockey stick, Rey would easily beat the ever-living shit out of Hux if provoked enough.

The last thing that happens is Kylo lunging forward and grabbing a fistful of Hux’s very expensive jacket. Hux’s eyes go from predator to prey, widening in alarm. His hands fly up, slender fingers wrapping around Kylo’s wrist. He yelps. Kylo’s lip curls back and he snarls like a rabid dog. He could do so much to Hux in this position. As horrible as Hux is, he’s in no position to fight back. And Kylo has never physically grabbed Hux before but this asshole has been asking for it. And Kylo feels so raw with power. It washes over like a red haze. The fuss around him is drowned out by this desire, need, to just hit something until it breaks. To just—unleash.

Before he knows it, he’s shouting, raising his stick.

“You _fuck_ —!”

“Ben!”

It’s Rey’s voice he hears above everyone else’s. Clear cut and sharper than the blades on his skates. Despite her sunny disposition and her almost childlike perspective of life, Rey proves to be mature, and in fact, a very wise young adult, far surpassing her age. Kylo suspects Luke has a large role in that.

It snaps him out of whatever it is that takes over him and rather suddenly, all his thoughts seem too violent. His grip on Hux’s jacket slackens enough for Hux to scramble back (and Kylo must give credit where credit is due—he doesn’t even stumble), brushing himself down like he’s somehow now unclean. His fingers twitch.

Kylo straightens, eyes never straying from those awful green ones and almost wishes he didn’t let go. How fucking _dare_ he? How dare he say something like that to Rey? Rey—who is so much better than Hux and better than himself too. Who Hux just gives hell purely because she has natural talent and loves to skate.

Hux sneers. It makes him look too old. He turns his nose up, standing at full height once more and gliding off. Never even looking back.  Trying to save face, Kylo assumes. He glares at the other onlookers, silently suggesting they do the same.

Rey’s arm loops through his in that certain way that implies she’ll never let go. Kylo has long since learnt not to underestimate the strength hidden in her small frame. She leads them off the ice with no hesitation. A part of Kylo wants to relax under her, her warmth and her security. Another part of him wants to take his hockey stick and shove it right up Hux’s—

“Ben, he isn’t worth the hassle.”

Sometimes it’s like Rey can read his mind.

“But _you_ are, Rey,” Kylo says. “He can’t fucking say those things to you.”

Rey raises her hands, eyes pleading. “Ben, _please._ ”

It’s the tone that gets him, makes the ground feel like it’s coming up from underneath them, crumbling. He’ll lose his footing and lose this argument, too. It’s always an inevitable loss against Rey and he feels like an angry teenager all over again. If he ever wins this argument, he’ll lose her. Forever.

It’s the one thing he hopes he never wins.

“This is why he has no friends,” Rey announces, leaning over the barrier simply to glare at Hux as he makes his way around the rink. He seems to have recovered fully from the outburst. Looking graceful and poised, arms outstretched as he does a perfect camel spin.

Kylo’s eyes trail after Hux, in his thermal leggings.

Fuck him.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts by someone coming to block his view. He snaps his head up to bark at them, but the insult falls short on his lips.

Phasma. Tall, blonde and icy. Meeting his exact eye level and bearing no emotion on her delicate but stoic features, schooled so entirely she could pass off as a marble statue.

“Kylo,” she says, voice sharp and even. “If you’re done making a scene, we’re to begin training in five minutes.”

“Yes, _Captain_ ,” Kylo replies, making no attempt to hide his disdain.

Phasma’s cold blue eyes slide over to Rey, assessing her for a few silent moments, before sniffing and leaving in the direction she came.

“Sheesh, who spat in her coffee?” Rey stares after the blonde, both in fear and awe. Phasma has that effect on everyone.

Kylo glares down at his skates. “It’s Phasma. She’s always like that.”

Rey hums, patting Kylo’s shoulder. “Well, you better get out there. Don’t want you getting into trouble.”

There’s a silent plea in that. A _‘please behave’_ , a _‘don’t make things difficult’_ , a _‘don’t let them all prove me wrong’_. Rey’s his biggest fan, number one supporter, and the truest friend he’s ever had. Above all, he can’t let her down.

He clutches his hockey stick firmly as if wielding it would will away the vulnerability. “I’ll see you after training.”

Rey nods, giving him a cheerful smile as he makes his way over to where his team is huddling.

It’s safe to say Kylo hates every single one of them. He doesn’t believe in teamwork and will point out the flaws of each member while explicitly ignoring his own. The only one he found tolerable was Finn, but he had quit recently, shying away from the bloodthirsty attitude of the team (Kylo) and Phasma’s strict leadership as team captain. Phasma is micro-managing personified, encouraging her fellow players to diet, workout and play exactly like her. The only one that actually likes her out of mutual interest, rather than just fear, is her small girlfriend who Kylo never bothered to learn the name of. All he knows is she’s a big a bitch as Phasma and they’re a match made in heaven.

It should also be noted that Kylo never pays attention during training. He doesn’t care about Phasma’s latest plan, he doesn’t care about who’s going to be in what position. He only shows up to the weekly training sessions so he isn't kicked off the team. He doesn’t exactly have the best track record at the moment. He’s a defenseman. He defends their goal and utterly disregards the rest of his duties.

Phasma learnt to just stop telling him what to do.

He participates in most of the exercises but none of them hold his attention long enough to ever finish one.

Their coach is absent yet again, supposedly giving Phasma instructs as to what the team should go over (but Kylo wonders if she just says that because everyone is too afraid to confront her). The team’s coach can be described in one word: sinister. With a yellow smile and bitter face, Coach Snoke is better suited skulking in dark alleyways than yelling at them from behind the barrier.

Kylo can’t really speak against him; he’s Snoke’s favourite after all.  For years now, Snoke has been telling Kylo that violence is a completely natural part of hockey. _“If these fools get in the way, knock them down. If they complain, they aren’t fit for the game.”_ To this day, Kylo still believes it to be sound advice. A little blood on the ice is never a bad thing.

 At the end of the training session, Phasma insists they do the team chant. Which is basically the act of everyone putting their hands in the middle and shouting the team name out of time. Kylo never participates.

As he glides to the exit of the rink, he can hear the team doing the chant.

_“Three, two, one, Troopers!”_

And he’s apparently the childish one of them.

He never showers in the locker rooms. Even when they’re empty. He won’t risk it. He’s never liked the feeling of being watched, observed. Having people look at him like they can see something wrong with him. Something cancerous protruding from his skin, reflecting his ugly insides.

That and he likes to jerk off in the shower.

When he emerges, Rey is waiting on the bench beside the male locker rooms, now on her second packet of gummy worms. She stands when she sees him, throwing her backpack on. “How was training?”

“Terrible.”

“Ah, well, I’m sure next week will be better!”

It’s the same conversation they’ve had for the past seven years now.

With Kylo’s little outburst all but forgotten, Rey retells all the details of her day Kylo missed (the whole two hours of it) and Kylo nods and hums along as the world’s worst conversationalist. Rey never seems to mind.

When the kiosk is in view again, it’s clear that Poe is no longer alone; now coupled with his boyfriend (aka Rey’s best friend), who should probably finish sweeping the floors but seems to be too busy flirting with Poe.

There is no other way to describe Finn than sincere. Luke always goes on about people’s auras and how everyone’s soul looks different. Kylo has no clue what he’s on about (he never does) but if he had to guess what Finn’s soul would look like, he’d say a sunrise. A bright one, strong and pure and bathing the horizon with the hope of another day.

It’s no surprise Poe is stupidly in love with him.

“Soooo,” Poe drawls, chin in his hand, elbow propped on the counter, “you come here often, gorgeous?”

Finn leans against his broom, brows raised. “I’m afraid I don’t... but you might give me a reason to visit more often.”

Poe chuckles, batting his lashes. “Please do.”

Rey makes an annoyed sound, placing a firm hand on the counter to ‘subtly’ interrupt them. “You guys work here. Together.”

Finn nods. “I never thought my dream job would be at an ice rink.”

“Dream job?” Rey and Kylo repeat in unison, tones bemused and flat respectively.

“Sure,” Finn continues, “because I get to work alongside the hottest guy in town.”

Poe winks. Rey pretends to gag.

Kylo watches them, face impassive but mind wandering. The combination of these two is like the personification of late afternoons, light beers and telltale conversations of running away together. Two people sharing the same smile, the same laughter. Kylo’s never really been one to believe in soulmates, however, these two pose the possibility. And Rey says they sing duets together so by musical lore they must be.

Finn straightens up. “Do you guys wanna go out for dinner? Get some pizza?” He pauses and adds, “Rey can get a boring salad.”

“Salads are not boring,” Rey objects. “They’re healthy.”

“Still boring.”

Rey is about to make another comment but Kylo interrupts. “There’s a new Italian place that opened up in the mall. We should try it.”

Poe clicks his fingers. “Great idea, buddy. Pizzas for Finn here and bor— _healthy_ salads for Rey.” He’s met with various sounds of agreement and chuckles. “Right. I’ll gonna go sign out. I’ll do you, too, Finn.”

“Thanks, babe,” Finn replies, Rey already linking arms with him, listing off her favourite salad dressings. “We’ll meet you out the front.”

Kylo pulls his hood over his head and heaves his bag over his shoulder. He lingers behind Rey and Finn, not wanting to get in the way of the conversation. Finn almost sort of counts as a friend to Kylo, but only because of Rey and Poe. He’s never spoken to Finn without one of them present. He assumes it’s because Finn’s scared of him from the games. Kylo lost count of his penalties long ago. He doesn’t even need a reason to fight a player out on the ice.  

Someone breezes past him, towards the entrance, brushing against his shoulder. Hux. Intentional or not, Hux does not look back and Kylo can’t deny the way his eyes linger on Hux’s ass. And he pictures how that prissy primadonna would look shoved up against the locker room wall.

_Preferably with his mouth occupied._

**Author's Note:**

> Come follow me on [Tumblr](http://thesunandoceanblue.tumblr.com) where I talk about all sorts of AUs that have consumed me.


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